Sonnets  to  Duse 


BY 


SARA   TEASDALE 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


BEQUEST 

OF 
ANITA  D.  S.  BLAKE 


Sonnets  to  Duse 


and  other  Poems 

By 

SARA  TEASDALE 


Arti  etl^fVeritati 


Boston 
THE  POET  LORE  COMPANY 

Publishers 

1907 


Copyright  1907  by  Sara  Teasdale 
All  rights  rtserved 


Tk*  Gorham  Preu,  BoHo*,  Mu*.t  U.  S.  A. 


To 

My    Father  and   Mother 


CONTENTS 
To  Duse 

To  Eleonora  Duse Q 

To  Eleonora  Duse    IO 

To  Eleonora  Duse  in  "  The  Dead  City" II 

To  a  Picture  of  Eleonora  Duse  in  "  The  Dead 
City,"     12 

To  a  Picture  of  Eleonora  Duse  in  "  The  Dead 

City," 13 

To  a  Picture  of  Eleonora  Duse  as  "Francesca 
da  Rimini" 14 

To  a  Picture  of  Eleonora  Duse 15 

To  a  Picture  of  Eleonora  Duse  with  the  Greek 
Fire  in  st Francesca  da  Rimini" 1 6 

A  Song  to  Eleonora  Duse  in  "Francesca  da 
Rimini" 17 


Poems    and   Sonnets 

To  "Japanese  Incense 21 

To  Sappho,  1 23 

To  Sappho,  II 24 

ToL.R.E 25 

The  Meeting *.  26 

The    Gift 27 

Dead  Love 28 

The  Love  that  Goes  A-begging 29 

Song 31 

Wishes 33 

Dusk  in  Autumn 35 

In  David's  ''Child's  Garden  of  ferses"  .  .  . .  36 

Triolets 37 

Sonnet    38 

Dream  Song 39 

To  Joy 40 

Roses  and  Rue 41 

The  Heart's  House 42 

The  House  of  Dreams 43 

Faults 44 


SONNETS  TO  DUSE 


SONNETS  TO  DUSE  9 

To  Eleonora  Duse 

Oh  beauty  that  is  filled  so  full  of  tears, 
Where  every  passing  anguish  left  its  trace, 
I  pray  you  grant  to  me  this  depth  of  grace: 
That  I  may  see  before  it  disappears, 
Blown  through  the  gateway  of  our  hopes  and 

fears 

To  death's  insatiable  last  embrace, 
The  glory  and  the  sadness  of  your  face, 
Its  longing  unappeased  through  all  the  years. 
No  bitterness  beneath  your  sorrow  clings; 
Within  the  wild  dark  falling  of  your  hair 
There  lies  a  strength  that  ever  soars  and  sings; 
Your  mouth's  mute  weariness  is  not  despair. 
Perhaps  among  us  craven  earth-born  things 
God  loves  its  silence  better  than  a  prayer. 


io  SONNETS  TO  DUSE 

To  Eleonora  Duse 

Your  beauty  lives  in  mystic  melodies, 
And  all  the  light  about  you  breathes  a  song. 
Your  voice  awakes  the  dreaming  airs  that  throng 
Within  our  music-haunted  memories: 
The  sirens'  strain  that  sank  within  the  seas 
When  men  forgot  to  listen,  floats  along 
Your  voice's   undercurrent  soft  and   strong. 
Sicilian  shepherds  pipe  beneath  the  trees; 
Along  the  purple  hills  of  drifted  sand, 
A  lone  Egyptian  plays  an  ancient  flute; 
At  dawn  the  Memnon  gives  his  old  salute 
Beside  the  Nile,  by  desert  breezes  fanned. 
The  music  faints  about  you  as  you  stand, 
And  with  the  Orphean  lay  it  trembles  mute. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  n 

To  Eleonora  Duse  in  "The  Dead  City  " 

Were  you  a  Greek  when  all  the  world  was  young, 
Before  the  weary  years  that  pass  and  pass, 
Had  scattered  all  the  temples  on  the  grass, 
Before  the  moss  to  marble  columns  clung  ? 
I  think  your  snowy  tunic  must  have  hung 
As  now  your  gown  does  —  wave  on  wave  a  mass 
Of  woven  water.     As  within  a  glass 
I  see  your  face  when  Homer's  tales  were  sung. 
Alcaeus  kissed  your  mouth  and  found  it  sweet, 
And  Sappho's  hand  has  lingered  in  your  hand. 
You  half  remember  Lesbos  as  you  stand 
Where  all  the  times  and  countries  mix  and  meet, 
And  lay  your  weight  of  beauty  at  our  feet, 
A  garland  gathered  in  a  distant  land. 


12  SONNETS  TO  DUSE 

To  a  Picture  of  Eleonora  Duse 
in  "The  Dead  City1' 

Your  face  is  set  against  a  fervent  sky, 
Before  the  thirsty  hills  that  sevenfold 
Return  the  sun's  hot  glory,  gold  on  gold, 
Where  Agamemnon  and  Cassandra  lie. 
Your  eyes  are  blind  whose  light  shall  never  die, 
And  all  the  tears  the  closed  eyelids  hold, 
And  all  the  longing  that  the  eyes  have  told, 
Is  gathered  in  the  lips  that  make  no  cry. 
Yea,  like  a  flower  within  a  desert  place, 
Whose  petals  fold  and  fade  for  lack  of  rain, 
Are  these,  your  eyes,  where  joy  of  sight  was  slain, 
And  in  the  silence  of  your  lifted  face, 
The  cloud  is  rent  that  hides  a  sleeping  race, 
And  vanished  Grecian  beauty  lives  again. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  13 

To  a  Picture  of  Eleonora  Duse 
in  "The  Dead   City" 

Carved  in  the  silence  by  the  hand  of  Pain, 

And  made  more  perfect  by  the  gift  of  Peace, 

Than  if  Delight  had  bid  your  sorrow  cease, 

And  brought  the  dawn  to  where  the  dark  has  lain, 

And  set  a  smile  upon  your  lips  again; 

Oh  strong  and  noble!  Tho'  your  woes  increase, 

The  gods  shall  hear  no  crying  for  release, 

Nor  see  the  tremble  that  your  lips  restrain. 

Alone  as  all  the  chosen  are  alone, 

Yet  one  with  all  the  beauty  of  the  past; 

A  sister  to  the  noblest  that  we  know, 

The  Venus  carved  in  Melos  long  ago, 

Yea,  speak  to  her,  and  at  your  lightest  tone, 

Her  lips  will  part  and  words  will  come  at  last. 


14  SONNETS  TO  DUSE 

To   a  Picture    of  Eleonora   Duse   as   "Francesco 
da  Rimini  " 

Oh    flower-sweet   face  and    bended     flower-like 

head! 

Oh  violet  whose  purple  cannot  pale, 
Or  forest  fragrance  ever  faint  or  fail, 
Or  breath  and  beauty  pass  among  the  dead! 
Yea,  very  truly  has  the  poet  said, 
No  mist  of  years  or  might  of  death  avail 
To  darken  beauty  —  brighter  thro'  the  veil 
We  see  the  glimmer  of  its  wings    outspread. 
Oh  face  embowered  and  shadowed  by  thy  hair, 
Some  lotus  blossom  on  a  darkened  stream! 
If  ever  I  have  pictured  in  a  dream 
My  guardian  angel,  she  is  like  to  this, 
Her  eyes  know  joy,  yet  sorrow  lingers  there, 
And  on  her  lips  the  shadow  of  a  kiss. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  15 

"To  a  Picture  of  Eleonora  Duse 

Was  ever  any  face  like  this  before  — 

So  light  a  veiling  for  the  soul  within, 

So  pure  and  yet  so  pitiful  for  sin  ? 

They  say  the  soul  will  pass  the  Heavy  Door, 

And  yearning  upward,  learn  creation's    lore — 

The  body  buried|'neath  the  earthly  din. 

But  thine  shall  live  forever,  it  hath  been 

So  near  the  soul,  and  shall  be  evermore. 

Oh  eyes  that  see  so  far  thro*  misted  tears, 

Oh  Death,  behold,  these  eyes  can  never  die! 

Yea,  tho5  your  kiss  shall  rob  these  lips  of  breath, 

Their  faint,  sad  smile  will  still  elude  thee,  Death. 

Behold  the  perfect  flower  this  neck  uprears, 

And  bow  thy  head  and  pass  the  wonder  by. 


16  SONNETS  TO  DUSE 

To  a  Picture  of  Eleonora  Duse  with  the   Greek 
Fire,  in  "  Francesca  da  Rimini  " 

Francesca's  life  that  was  a  limpid  flame 
Agleam  against  the  shimmer  of  a  sword, 
Which  falling,  quenched  the  flame  in  blood 

outpoured 

To  free  the  house  of  Rimino  from  shame  — 
Francesca's  death  that  blazed  aloft  her  name 
In  guilty  fadeless  glory,  hurling  toward 
The  windy  darkness  where  the  tempest  roared, 
Her  spirit  burdened  by  the  weight  of  blame  — 
Francesca's  life  and  death  are  mirrored  here 
Forever,  on  the  face  of  her  who  stands 
Illumined  and  intent  beside  the  blaze, 
Grown  one  with  it,  and  reading  without  fear 
That  they  shall  fare  upon  the  selfsame  ways, 
Plucked  forth  and  cast  away  by  bloody  hands. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  17 

A    Song    to    Eleonora    Duse    in    "  Francesca    da 
Rimini  " 

Oh  would  I  were  the  roses,  that  lie  against  her 

hands, 
The  heavy   burning   roses   she  touches   as    she 

stands! 

Dear  hands  that  hold  the  roses,   where   mine 

would  love  to  be, 
Oh  leave,  oh  leave  the  roses,  and  hold  the  hands 

of  me! 

She  draws  the  heart  from  out  them,  she  draws 

away  their  breath, — 
Oh  would  that  I  might  perish  and  find  so  sweet 

a  death! 


POEMS  AND  SONNETS 


POEMS  AND  SONNETS  21 

To  Japanese  Incense 

The  wind  that  rings  the  temple  bell 

Is  far  away, 
And  far  the  brazen  incense  urns 

Of  ashes  grey. 

And  far  the  carven  temple  gates 

Of  red  and  gold  — 
The  dreamy  temples  where  the  gods 

Have  long  been  old. 

The  dragonflies  and  irises 

Beside  the  stream, 
Are  far  away  in  lands  of  dawn 

And  lands  of  dream. 


22  SONNETS    TO   DUSE 

And  here  beneath  an  alien  sky 
Your  breath  ascends, 

A  column  delicate  and  grey 
That  waves  and  bends, 

And  lifts  a  scent  of  sandal-wood, 

Devoid  of  prayer, 
To  seek  an  ancient  Eastern  god 

Thro*  Western  air. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  23 

To  Sappho 

I 

Impassioned  singer  of  the  happy  time 
When  all  the  world  was  waking  into  morn, 
And  dew  still  glistened  on  the  tangled  thorn, 
And  lingered  on  the  branches  of  the  lime  — 
Oh  peerless  singer  of  the  golden  rhyme, 
Happy  wert  thou  to  live  ere  doubt  was  born  — 
Before  the  joy  of  life  was  half  out-worn, 
And  nymphs   and  satyrs    vanished    from   your 

clime. 

Then  maidens  bearing  parsley  in  their  hands 
Wound  thro'  the  groves  to  where  the  goddess 

stands, 

And  mariners  might  sail  for  unknown  lands 
Past  sea-clasped  islands  veiled  in  mystery  — 
And  Venus  still  was  shining  from  the  sea, 
And  Ceres  had  not  lost  Persephone. 


24  SONNETS  TO   DUSE 

To  Sappho 
II 

Your  lines  that  linger  for  us  down  the  years. 
Like  sparks  that  tell  the  glory  of  a  flame, 
Still  keep  alight  the  splendor  of  your  name, 
And  living  still,  they  sting  us  into  tears. 

Sole  perfect  singer  that  the  world  has  heard,. 

Let  fall  from  that  far  heaven  of  thine 

One  golden  word. 

Oh  tell  us  we  shall  find  beside  the  Nile, 
Held  fast  in  some  Egyptian's  dusty  hand, 
Deep  covered  by  the  centuries  of  sand, 
The  songs  long  written  that  were  lost  awhile  — 

Sole  perfect  singer  that  the  world  has  heard,. 

Let  fall  from  that  far  heaven  of  thine 

This  golden  word. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  25 

To  L.  R.  E. 

When  first  I  saw  you  —  felt  you  take  my  hand, 
I  could  not  speak  for  happiness  to  find 
How  more  than  all  they  said  your  heart  was  kind, 
How  strong  you  were,  and  quick  to  understand — 
I  dared  not  say:  "I  who  am  least  of  those 
Who  call  you  friend, —  I  love  you,  and  I  crave 
A  little  love  that  I  may  be  more  brave 
Because  one  watches  me  who  cares  and  knows." 
So,  silent,  long  ago  I  used  to  look 
High  up  along  the  shelves  at  one  great  book, 
And  longed  to  see  its  contents,  childishwise, 
And  now  I  know  it  for  my  Poet's  own, — 
So  sometime  shall  I  know  you  and  be  known, 
And  looking  upward,  I  shall  find  your  eyes. 


26  SONNETS  TO   DUSE 

The  Meeting 

I'm  happy,  I'm  happy, 

I  saw  my  love  to-day. 

He  came  along  the  crowded  street, 

By  all  the  ladies  gay, 

And  oh,  he  smiled  and  spoke  to  me 

Before  he  went  his  way. 

My  throat  was  tight  with  happiness, 

I  couldn't  say  a  word, 

My  heart  was  beating  fast,  so  fast 

I'm  sure  he  must  have  heard; 

And  when  he  passed,  I  trembled  like 

A  little  frightened  bird. 

I  wish  I  were  the  flower-girl 
Who  waits  beside  the  way  — 
I'd  give  my  flowers  all  to  him 
And  see  him  every  day  ; 
I  wish  I  were  the  flower-girl 
Who  waits  beside  the  way. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  27 

The  Gift 

What  can  I  give  you,  my  lord,  my  lover, 
You  who  have  given  the  world  to  me, 
Showed  me  the  light  and  the  joy  that  cover 
The  wild  sweet  earth  and  the  restless  sea  ? 

All  that  I  have  are  gifts  of  your  giving  — 
If  I  gave  them  again,  you  would  find  them  old, 
And  your  soul  would  weary  of  always  living 
Before  the  mirror  my  life  would  hold. 

What  shall  I  give  you,  my  lord,  my  lover  ? 
The  gift  that  breaks  the  heart  in  me: 
I  bid  you  awake  at  dawn  and  discover 
I  have  gone  my  way  and  left  you  free. 


28  SONNETS  TO  DUSE 

Dead  Love 

God  let  me  listen  to  your  voice, 
And  look  upon  you  for  a  space  — 
And  then  he  took  your  voice  away, 
And  dropped  a  veil  before  your  face. 

God  let  me  look  within  your  eyes, 
And  touch  for  once  your  clinging  hand, 
And  then  he  left  me  all  alone, 
And  took  you  to  the  Silent  Land. 

I  cannot  weep,  I  cannot  pray, 
My  heart  has  very  silent  grown, 
I  only  watch  how  God  gives  love, 
And  then  leaves  lovers  all  alone. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  29 

The  Love  that  Goes  A-begging 

Oh  Loves  there  are  that  enter  in, 
And  Loves  there  are  that  wait, 
And  Loves  that  sit  a-weeping 
Whose  joy  will  come  too  late. 

For  some  there  be  that  ope  their  doors, 
And  some  there  be  that  close, 
And  Love  must  go  a-begging, 
But  whither,  no  one  knows. 

His  feet  are  on  the  thorny  ways, 
And  on  the  dew-cold  grass, 
No  ears  have  ever  heard  him  sing, 
No  eyes  have  seen  him  pass. 


30  SONNETS  TO  DUSE 

And  yet  he  wanders  thro*  the  world 
And  makes  the  meadows  sweet, 
For  all  his  tears  and  weariness 
Have  flowered  beneath  his  feet. 

The  little  purple  violet 
Has  marked  his  wanderings, 
And  in  the  wind  among  the  trees, 
You  hear  the  song  he  sings. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  31 

Song 

Like  some  rare  queen  of  old  romance 
Who  loved  the  gleam  of  helm  and  lance 

Is  she. 

A  harper  of  King  Arthur's  days 
Should  praise  her  in  a  hundred  lays: 
The  queen  of  Love  and  Chivalry  — 
O  Dieu  te  garde,  mon  coeur,  ma  vie. 

And  crown-wise  plaited  is  her  hair, 
No  crown  of  woven  gold  more  fair 

Could  be. 

And  very  queen-like,  too,  the  smile 
That  lightens  every  little  while 
A  face  too  fair  for  men  to  see, 
O  Dieu  te  garde,  mon  coeur,  ma  vie. 


32  SONNETS   TO    DUSE 

She  is  not  over  kind,  I  know  ; 
The  queens  were  gracious  long  ago, 

Ah  me! 

Queen  Guenevere  would  give  a  kiss 
Ofttimes  to  Launcelot,  I  wis  — 
I  would  that  I  were  loved  as  he! 
O  Dieu  te  garde,  mon  coeur,  ma  vie. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS      33 

Wnkn 

I  wish  for  such  a  lot  of  things 
That  never  will  come  true  — 
And  yet  I  want  them  all  so  much 
I  think  they  might,  don't  you  ? 

I  want  a  little  kitty-cat 
That's  soft  and  tame  and  sweet, 
And  every  day  I  watch  and  hope 
I'll  find  one  in  the  street. 

But  nursie  says,  "Come,  walk  along, 
"Don't  stand  and  stare  like  that" — 
I'm  only  looking  hard  and  hard 
To  try  to  find  my  cat. 


34  SONNETS    TO    DUSE 

And  then  I  want  a  blue  balloon 
That  tries  to  fly  away, 
I  thought  if  I  wished  hard  enough 
That  it  would  come  some  day. 

One  time  when  I  was  in  the  park 
I  knew  that  it  would  be 
Beside  the  big  old  clock  at  home 
A-waiting  there  for  me  — 

? 

And  soon  as  we  got  home  again, 

I  hurried  thro*  the  hall, 

And  looked  beside  the  big  old  clock 

It  wasn't  there  at  all. 

Ijthink  I'll  never  wish  again  — 
But  then,  what  shall  I  do  ? 
The  wishes  are  a  lot  of  fun 
Altho'  they  don't  come  true. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  35 

Dusk  in  Autumn 

The  moon  is  like  a  scimitar, 
A  little  silver  scimitar, 
A-drifting  down  the  sky. 
And  near  beside  it  is  a  star, 
A  timid  twinkling  golden  star, 
That  watches  like  an  eye. 

And  thro*  the  nursery  window-pane 
The  witches  have  a  fire  again, 
Just  like  the  ones  we  make, — 
And  now  I  know  they're  having  tea, 
I  wish  they'd  give  a  cup  to  me, 
With  witches'  currant  cake. 


36  SONNETS   TO    DUSE 

In    David's    "Child's    Garden    of    Verses 

The  dearest  child  in  all  the  world, 
Should  have  the  dearest  songs, 

And  that  is  why  this  little  book 
To  David-Boy  belongs. 


AND  OTHER   POEMS  37 

Triolets 

Before  a  lonely  shrine 
Of  foam-born  Aphrodite, 
Ungarlanded  of  vine, 
Undyed  by  dripping  wine, 
I  brought  green  bay  to  twine, 
And  prayed  to  her,  almighty, — 
And  lo,  the  prayer  of  mine 
Was  heard  of  Aphrodite. 

I  sang  of  answered  prayer, 
And  now  before  the  goddess, 
The  maids  lay  flowers  rare, 
And  she  has  ceased  to  care 
For  bay  that  I  might  bear. 
To  heal  my  heart's  distress, 
My  feet  must  wander  where 
There  waits  some  lonelier  goddess. 


38  SONNETS   TO    DUSE 

Sonnet 

I  saw  a  ship  sail  forth  at  evening  time; 
Her  prow  was  gilded  by  the  western  fire, 
And  all  her  rigging  one  vast  golden  lyre, 
For  winds  to  play  on  to  the  ocean's  rhyme 
Of  wave  on  wave  forever  singing  low. 
She  floated  on  a  web  of  burnished  gold, 
And  in  such  light  as  praying  men  behold 
Cling  round  a  vision,  were  her  sails  aglow. 
I  saw  her  come  again  when  dawn  was  grey, 
Her  wonder  faded  and  her  splendor  dead  — 
She  whom  I  loved  once  had  upon  her  way 
A  light  most  like  the  sunset.     Now  'tis  sped. 
And  this  is  saddest  —  what  seemed  wondrous  fair 
Are  now  but  straight  pale  lips,  and  dull  gold  hair . 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  39 

Dream  Song 

I  plucked  a  snow-drop  in  the  spring, 
And  in  my  hand  too  closely  pressed; 
The  warmth  had  hurt  the  tender  thing, 
I  grieved  to  see  it  withering. 

I  gave  my  love  a  poppy  red, 
And  laid  it  on  her  snow-cold  breast; 
But  poppies  need  a  warmer  bed, 
We  wept  to  find  the  flower  was  dead. 


40  SONNETS  TO  DUSE 

To  'Joy 

Lo,  I  am  happy,  for  my  eyes  have  seen 
Joy  glowing  here  before  me,  face  to  face; 
His  wings  were  arched  above  me  for  a  space, 
I  kissed  his  lips,  no  bitter  came   between. 
The  air  is  vibrant  where  his  feet  have  been, 
And  full  of  song  and  color  is  his  place. 
His  wondrous  presence  sheds  about  a  grace 
That  lifts  and  hallows  all  that  once  was  mean. 
I  may  not  sorrow  for  I  saw  the  light, 
Tho*  I  shall  walk  in  valley  ways  for  long, 
I  still  shall  hear  the  echo  of  the  song, — 
My  life  is  measured  by  its  one  great  height. 
Joy  holds  more  grace  than  pain  can  ever  give, 
And  by  my  glimpse  of  joy  my  soul  shall  live. 


AND   OTHER  POEMS  41 

Roses  and  Rue 

Bring  me  the  roses  white  and  red, 

And  take  the  laurel  leaves  away; 
Yea,  wreathe  the  roses  round  my  head 

That  wearies  'neath  the  crown  of  bay. 

"  We  searched  the  wintry  forests  thro* 

And  found  no  roses  anywhere  — 
But  we  have  brought  a  little  rue 

To  twine  a  circlet  for  your  hair." 

I  would  not  pluck  the  rose  in  May, 

I  wove  a  laurel  crown  instead; 
And  when  the  crown  is  cast  away, 

They  bring  me  rue  —  the  rose  is  dead. 


42  SONNETS  TO  DUSE 

The  Heart's  House 

My  heart  is  but  a  little  house 
With  room  for  only  three  or  four, 
And  it  was  filled  before  you  knocked 
Upon  the  door. 

I  longed  to  bid  you  come  within, 
I  knew  that  I  should  love  you  well, 
But  if  you  came  the  rest  must  go 
Elsewhere  to  dwell. 

For  you  would  never  be  content 
With  just  a  corner  in  my  room, 
Yea,  if  you  came  the  rest  must  go 
Into  the  gloom. 

And  so,  farewell,  O  friend,  my  friend! 
Nay,  I  could  weep  a  little  too, 
But  I  shall  only  smile  and  say 
Farewell  to  you. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS  43 

The  House  of  Dreams 

I  built  a  little  House  of  Dreams, 

And  fenced  it  all  about, 
But  still  I  heard  the  Wind  of  Truth 

That  roared  without. 


I  laid  a  fire  of  Memories 

And  sat  before  the  glow, 
But  through  the  chinks  and  round  the  door 

The  wind  would  blow. 

I  left  the  House,  for  all  the  night 

I  heard  the  Wind  of  Truth; — 
I  followed  where  it  seemed  to  lead 

Through  all  my  youth. 

But  when  I  sought  the  House  of  Dreams, 

To  creep  within  and  die, 
The  Wind  of  Truth  had  levelled  it, 

And  passed  it  by. 


44  SONNETS  TO    DUSE 

Faults 

They  came  to  tell  your  faults  to  me, 
They  named  them  over  one  by  one, 
I  laughed  aloud  when  they  were  done; 
I  knew  them  all  so  well  before, — 
Oh  they  were  blind,  too  blind  to  see 
Your  faults  had  made  me  love  you  more. 


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